


Out of the Frying Pan and in to the Fog

by fluffyhair



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, I felt like we were bffs, I wasn't New new but this dwight helped me out still, M/M, and more than one person in a locker, but. michael. had a mori :), just a few hooks, no beta I fear criticism until I post to the void (ao3) and go hide, not following other game mechanics tho ive given them dialogue, or was it rancor idk I don't remember he stabbed tho, quentin just thinks this is all a freddy dream trick, references to the nightmare on elm street remake, this is based on an in-game match I had
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23664286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffyhair/pseuds/fluffyhair
Summary: Quentin escapes one dream world only to enter in another weird "dream" world more confused than ever. Dwight tries to help him learn the ropes so they can both survive the trial but the Shape has another plan...(based on an actual match I had)
Relationships: Dwight Fairfield/Quentin Smith, smithfield
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Out of the Frying Pan and in to the Fog

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a big 'ol ramble about an actual match I had. I was Quentin and I had a Dwight pair up with me on gens and we saved each other on hooks. It took a tragic end (as dbd matches go) but honestly it gave me inspiration. Although this did happen like a year? ago? and I just now finally got the inspiration and motivation to type it out.

Dwight had really helped Quentin out ever since he arrived in this horrible, repetitive, nightmare of a death realm. You gotta take the silver linings where you find them. And well, if they happen to be in an equally shy and nerdy guy from whatever time period, it’s pretty good. Even if it doesn’t always end pretty good.

\---

Quentin’s arrival hadn’t been the cleanest one, he was still reeling from Freddy Kruegar trying to slice out his insides. Filled with anger, adrenaline, and fear, once the fog overcame him and revealed Freddy-less junkyard, Quentin booked it for any way out of the area. He still thought he was dreaming, and if he was dreaming, he wasn’t safe.

None of the regular tells from his dreams were around as he ran around, however. It was so cold here, even for an unnatural dream. Most of his dreams had taken place at Badham, as torture from Freddy and their intertwined past, but Quentin had no idea where he was running to or from, but everything in his body was telling him to keep on running. And he did, until he ran in to another man, one with glasses and a half untucked shirt.

“Shh-shh..sh-shh-shh…” Glasses man hushed as he waved Quentin down and pulled on his jacket sleeve. “You don’t want to be found.” he whispered, walking and tugging on Quentin’s jacket some more and he brought them to a big red locker. 

Quentin’s heartbeat was racing from running, and he was confused how someone else was here? This man didn’t look like anyone in the preschool class at Badham. Unless there were more Freddy tormented? Quentin just listened and followed, glasses man opened the locker doors and ushered them both in and closed the door. Glasses man still had a grip on Quentin’s sleeve, but he didn’t notice it much. Quentin was more worried about Freddy hurting others he had no idea about. Did this man also know how to manipulate the dreams? Maybe that’s why this place was so unfamiliar. 

“Who are you?” Quentin asked.   
“What’s your name?” Glasses asked at the same time.

After the silence, they both startled each other slightly asking a question at the same time.

“Quentin.”   
“Dwight.”

Dwight nodded his head and finally let go of Quentin’s sleeve.

“Listen, you’re going to want to take a left once we get out of this locker, and look for a red-headed girl with her hair in braids. Her name is Meg. She should be working on a generator.” Dwight whispered.

Quentin nodded along, although worried that there’s even  _ more _ people trapped in Freddy’s controlled world.

“Don’t run, because he will be able to find you, okay?” Dwight continued.

Did this dream world run on different rules? No matter if Quentin ran or walked, Freddy found him in every dream. But instead of disagreeing, Quentin listened. This Dwight guy seemed right. It didn’t seem like Dwight had anything else to say, so Quentin nodded and slowly exited the locker while Dwight stayed in there. 

This was weird. But Quentin felt like he could find this Meg and a generator like he was told. Quentin wandered to the left, sticking to the compacted-trash walls and hoping his jacket would help him blend in if anything came by. He could hear the gears of something turning and trying to come to life, and he slowly found the source of the sound. This looked like a generator, one that had gone through hell maybe. His father had one in the basement in case the power ever went off, but Quentin was never familiar with the thing. Plus, there was no red-headed girl around here? But someone had been trying to fix it, and so he figured he’d try to finish the job. Kneeling down, it seemed intimidating, with all the gears and wires hanging everywhere. Electrical burns weren’t pretty, and he wasn’t sure how he’d explain those to his father when he woke up from this dream with burns.

Before Quentin had even set his hands on the machine, Dwight came crouched around the corner, almost scaring the pants off Quentin. Dwight gave a meek smile to Quentin and moved over next to him. “You’ll wanna do this--” Dwight picked up two broken wires and started to brush them together, they sparked a little. “Here, pick them up and I’ll take this side.” Dwight moved away and Quentin replaced his hands on the wires. “We need to--oh!” Someone huge and masked picked up Dwight and slung him over his shoulder. This was no Freddy, this guy had a knife and was still terrifying.

Quentin booked it around the corner. “Get out of here!” Dwight called after him as he got carried away. But, Quentin started feeling guilty. Did he just leave Dwight to his dream death? Was this a dream? Slowing down, Quentin turned back around and tried to find Dwight. After a little bit of slow walking, he found the generator they were working on, this time sparking out, and it seemed to be moving slower than it had before. That wasn’t Quentin’s main concern though, and he continued forward, looking for Dwight.

Quentin couldn’t see or hear that big masked man with a knife anywhere, but he still walked silently just in case. After turning a few corners, Quentin heard whimpers and grunts and quickened his pace to find Dwight. Turning one corner, Quentin almost ducked right back behind it. He had found Dwight, but he was hanging on a hook!? That wasn’t the most startling thing, it was that the masked man was standing in front of Dwight, just idly looking at his bloodied knife. Did he slice Dwight? That might leave a nasty scar once he woke up…

Quentin stayed peeking around the corner. There were...weird… spider-like legs slowly appearing around Dwight on the hook. Whatever that meant, did not look good at all. But Quentin wanted to help Dwight like Dwight had helped Quentin. And thankfully, the masked man finally walked away from Dwight, losing interest in him. Slowly walking up to Dwight, Quentin faltered for what to do. Just lift? So that’s what he did. As carefully as he could.

Dwight tried to stifle his cry while Quentin lifted him off the hook, and Quentin felt extremely bad for this man going through this. 

“Come with me.” Quentin whispered, grabbing at Dwight’s hand and pulling them into a fast walk away from that bloodied hook. 

“Careful… careful…” Dwight muttered as they walked along, looking around for the man with the knife.

Quentin was more determined to get his newfound friend in this hell healed some. There was a chest in sight that he was determined to make it to, hoping there would be something in there to staunch the bleeding in Dwight’s shoulder. A few more hurried steps and they made it. Quentin let go of Dwight’s hand in favor of opening the chest, and searching through all the trash that was in there. Quentin kept bumping something in the midst of it all, and he was trying his best to quickly find anything medical he can use. Thankfully, it was only a few more moments and Quentin pulled out a half opened red kit with a plus on the front. Hopefully there would be enough in there.

“C’mere, Dwight.” Quentin beckoned for him to step closer as he pulled out a little amount of gauze. “It’s all that’s here…”   
“It’ll be fine.” Dwight said, certain. So Quentin nodded and started to cover up the hole in his shoulder. Sure enough, the end of the roll came, and that hole wasn’t covered up very well at all. But still, Dwight seemed to hold himself up a little better, and smiled as a thanks. 

“How do we get out of this… this… dream… hellscape…?” Quentin asked.

Dwight looked confused for a moment, but then sad. “We’re---” A loud horn sounded throughout the junkyard, and startled Quentin in to a low crouch, Dwight on the contrast perked up some more. “We want to go. Now.” Dwight grabbed Quentin’s sleeve again and started them into a run.

“How do you know where to go here?” Quentin called to him.

“You just… kinda learn after being here for a while.” Dwight called back. “Look, up there, there’s gates we want to go through. Then we can be safe for a while.” Dwight pointed forward for Quentin to see. It was a delightful, hopeful sight to see as they hurried towards it. A fire was lit in the distance a little ways past the gate entrance. 

“I’ll explain more to you once we get to the campfire. There’s a lot others here actu--”    
Quentin gasped as he was pulled back by the collar of his jacket, Dwight's hand being torn from Quentin’s sleeve.

Quentin was face to face with the masked man, knife alarmingly close to his face as the man just… studied Quentin’s scared face. The masked man tilted his head to the side briefly, right before he plunged the knife into Quentin’s chest.

Quentin was too shocked to scream, mouth open agape as he tried to beat on the man’s arm, only for him to plunge the knife even farther into his chest. 

The man cast Quentin aside on the ground. Quentin didn’t think he was coming back from this one. Things were going dark.

This dream sucks.

\---

When Quentin woke up, it was not to his familiar bedroom. Not to the local library where he’s fallen asleep while studying. Not to anyone kindly waking him up to tell him dinner was ready or that he fell asleep during class. No. 

However, it was Dwight in front of him. Looking concerned, but unharmed. Did they both die?

“Hey… Quentin… Glad you’re awake. But don’t freak out, okay?”   
  


Quentin kind of freaked out.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I really just word vomited out this series of events, trying to remember how that match went. Sorry if it doesn't flow right because I did not reread it. I also haven't played dbd in like... months.


End file.
